Ephemeral
by chunlou
Summary: This story, of Eli and Oskar, continues from where the old story lingers…
1. Preface

**Preface**

All lives end. But it doesn't stop us from wondering what happen in between. In between life and death. Sometimes we, even when knowing how it will end, still try hard to make the most out of it regardless.

This story, of Eli and Oskar, continues from where the old story lingers. It begins from an end. And new chapters follow…


	2. Winter’s Dream

**Winter's Dream**

In an ancient yard, pale and dark, a ghost-like figure hovered by,  
sat by a lone stone only she could recognize—  
nameless, unengraved—on which a fond kiss she kissed and pressed—  
drifting into a blank gaze—leaned her head—dreamed—and said—

—Remember the "silly" rhyme you gave?

_To a baby girl…_

_When I'm with you,  
I'm a baby boy  
In my baby world  
Living my baby ways.  
And when you leave,  
I'm a baby boy  
In my baby world,  
Lose all my baby days.  
So please come back,  
O, my baby girl,  
To our baby world,  
So we can play again.  
But if you must,  
Then please live in love  
With your love and friends  
Till after Life is end. _

—Remember how I felt?

_Friends let friends be where, what and who they are—  
Or, perhaps, only a little better.  
I won't ask for more than what you can give  
Or give more than what you want to receive.  
If I'd ask you to do more, I did wrong.  
If I'd see you smiling more, I grew strong.  
Whatever I do, I do it for you—  
For you are my friend true and old and new._

—Remember I told you I'd always asked—  
"Why can't I have anything?" —  
"Why can't I be allowed to live?"—remember?

—Remember when you said—maybe, there's a cure—  
maybe, there's someone like me out there—  
maybe, you'd find something—  
so you searched and searched and searched—  
just so I could live—or rather, wouldn't die—

—Remember all those years you tried and tried  
to stay awake at night? To try to stay by my side.  
To try to pretend everything was alright.  
To try to act as if we're living a normal life.

—Remember the horror? I felt.  
When you brought me—blood—  
Yet I didn't dare ask where from—  
I couldn't be with you if I ceased to be—  
I died a little to make you did what you did—  
But I lived more for what you tried—  
For what we tried—to live a "normal" life.

—Remember when you asked  
what if you're no longer there—and I said:  
I'd rather go to hell with you on my mind  
than go to heaven without you by my side.

—Remember the pact?

_When all strength is gone and senses decline;  
When mind cannot tell who, what, when, how and why;  
When crazed and old and sold and trashed am I,  
To love you is still my last instinct to die._

—Remember? You asked me, "Did you die once, a long time ago?"  
I did now.

—The blood—the life—that you gave me. Never did you tell me that that was _yours_. WHY?  
It was your own life that you were giving me. YOU SILLY BASTARD!  
Why all these lies, fake hopes, elusive happiness, and never-ending suffering?  
Why did you do that? And why did _I_ let you do that?

—_Because you are my Eli._

—Because I am your Eli…

_Winter's sleep…_

_Snow flakes falling on my head,  
Sharp winds taking off my breath,  
Lying at the rim of death,  
In your dream I take my rest._


	3. Beginning of an End

**Beginning of an End...**

_Love goes toward love as schoolboys from their books,  
But love from love, toward school with heavy looks._  
(Romeo and Juliet, II. ii. 157-58)

Some time after Eli pulled Oskar out of the pool.

**Oskar**: "Where've you been?"  
**Eli**: "Nowhere."  
**Oskar**: "Are you gonna leave again?"  
**Eli**: "Yes."  
**Oskar**: "Can I come with you?"  
**Eli**: "No, Oskar…"  
**Oskar**: "Why not?"  
**Eli**: "You can't."  
**Oskar**: "Yes, I can."  
**Eli**: "You're not gonna have a normal life with me."  
**Oskar**: "I had the most normal life… it was—with you…"  
**Eli**: "No, you don't…" Yet to finish the sentence.  
**Oskar**: "I didn't feel afraid. Not anyone. Not anything… because… of you."  
**Eli**: "But your mom…"  
**Oskar**: "She'll be alright."  
**Eli**: "No… your mom's gonna miss you."  
**Oskar**: "I miss you more."  
**Eli**: "No, you don't understand…"  
**Oskar**: "I like you. A lot. We can protect each other." Cutting off Eli again.  
**Eli**: "Don't be silly."  
**Oskar**: "You're right… I know I'm not as strong as you."  
**Eli**: "I didn't mean that." Trying to force an assuring tone.  
**Oskar**: "You don't like me?"  
**Eli**: "… I…" The words of a faint ancient conversation making a flashing returning ruckus in her head.

* * *

**Håkan**: "What do you need me for anyway?"  
**Eli**: "I love you."  
**Håkan**: "No, you don't."  
**Eli**: "Yes. In a way."  
**Håkan**: "There is no such thing. You either love someone or you don't."  
**Eli**: "Really?"  
**Håkan**: "Yes."  
**Eli**: "In that case I have to think about it."

* * *

After a quick subconscious introspective reflection, out of a reflex mode—  
**Eli**: "I do… I wasn't sure… But now. I am." Feeling increasing uncomfortable. But doesn't know why. An unfamiliar feeling stirring inside, as though wanting something unwantable, something "unacceptable," something against her own rationality, as she lowering her head...  
Oskar makes a feather-light upward brushing stroke with his curled index finger against her chin.  
**Oskar**: "… hey…" Looking towards her down-gazing eyes. Breathes out the word ever so softly as if in fear of awaking a dream.  
**Eli**: "What shall we do?" She looks back up at him. Tense eyebrows.  
**Oskar**: "We leave, of course." With the certitude of a schoolboy rushing outwards upon the bell. Towards "freedom."  
**Eli**: "Together?" Widening eyes. Half relaxed, half perplexed.  
**Oskar**: "Yes." As natural as a released balloon up-floating to the sky.

* * *

If two lovers can think rationally, they're not passionately in love. Not that love is irrationally blind but that Rationality fears Wrong—yet Love fears neither Right nor Wrong—only Loss. The loss of the one standing right in front of you.

_Immortally…_

Odor. Maybe. Poor dresser. Perhaps.  
Anorexic. She seems like.  
But she has big eyes tense and wild,  
where I see my pride through their smile.

Cold. Yes. Half lifeless. Almost always.  
Who is she? I don't really care—I simply know—  
when her small hand holds my half-wake dream,  
a cold-warmth shivers into my side limb to limb.

Friendless. I don't care. Pain. I don't mind.  
Bullies. Threats. And knifes. I can all bear—  
for I know in each of my ordained plights  
she will lift me up to meet her smiling eyes.

Hopeless. (I guess.) Futureless. (I know.)  
As we tap each of our vibrating moments—  
All I feel is this: she will be there till I die—  
I will be there—with her—where I lie…


	4. Love is Enough

**Love is Enough**

Evening. On the couch. Eli's leaning her head on Oskar, reading a book together. Oskar is a bit tired. They were dancing the other night. Sort of.

* * *

**Oskar:** "How should I put it? You're…err… like a wobbly corpse when it comes to dancing."  
Eli playfully throws a punch at Oskar, half smiling.  
**Oskar:** "Here, step on my feet." Being older and taller, Oskar feels he could easily lift Eli up.  
**Eli:** "What?"

Despite their differences, or rather, "similarity," Oskar has grown accustomed to Eli after all these years.

**Oskar:** "Stand on my feet. Put your feet on mine."  
**Eli:** "Hmm… Like this?"

Facing Oskar, Eli tiptoes her right foot on his left foot and her left foot on his right foot, wrapping her arms around him trying to balance herself. Oskar wraps his arms around her waist to keep her from falling.

**Oskar:** "Step and glide… Step and glide… Easy no?"  
Eli smiling, her feet on his, simply being moved like a little happy puppet, staring down on the feet movements.  
**Eli:** "That's fun."

The smile wouldn't go away… Step and glide… Step and glide…

* * *

Earlier during the day.

**Sara:** "Here's your book."  
**Oskar:** "Oh, thanks. Here's the mixed tape I made for you."

Oskar likes working at the bookstore. He could borrow certain books occasionally or buy them cheaply, or even get some of them for free once a while.

**Sara:** "THANK YOU SO MUCH! I've been dying to listen to it! I'm so glad it's nothing like 'Fyra Bugg och en Coca-Cola'."  
**Oskar:** "Yeah… I know… And you're welcome."  
**Sara:** "You know, you're not so bad. You just dress bad."  
Oskar lets out a giggle. So lighthearted and carefree. For once.

In fact, Sara is worried, for what happened the other day outside the bookstore.

* * *

**Youngster:** "Can I borrow a cigarette?"  
**Oskar:** "I don't smoke."  
**Youngster:** "What? Are you freaking kidding me?"  
**Oskar:** "No. Really."  
**Youngster:** "If you don't want to give me a cigarette, just say it. You faggot!" He doesn't really need a cigarette. Only an excuse.

Pushed against the wall, Oskar is surrounded by ice-hockey stick swinging youngsters, yelling a sundry of cusses.

Sara sees it from inside the bookstore. Yells at the manager immediately. The manager rushes out of the store with Sara, grabbing a huge roll of map along the way. Perhaps he thinks it looks like a big canon from afar.

**Manager:** "HEY YOU! BUCK OFF!"

They disperse.

**Sara:** "Are you ok?"  
**Oskar:** "Yeah…" Panting.  
**Sara:** "I told you to get a haircut." Half jokingly, half trying to calm down.

* * *

**Sara:** "So, do you want to come to my party this Saturday? You can bring your girlfriend with you if you want."  
**Oskar:** "I don't have a girlfriend."  
**Sara:** "Boyfriend?" Smiling mischievously.  
**Oskar:** "No, no boyfriend either." Smiling back, a bit awkwardly.  
**Sara:** "No matter. Just come by when you feel like it, ok?"  
**Oskar:** "Ok."  
**Sara:** "Don't masturbate too much, alright?"  
**Oskar:** "Huh? What?"  
**Sara:** "I'm just joking, you goofball. You look sick though."  
**Oskar:** "No, just the government that has been sucking all my money and blood."  
**Sara:** "Hahaha…"

* * *

Sara drives and drops Oskar off at his "home" after work. Oskar stands and waves until seeing her driving off far far away. Then he walks back to a bus stop to catch his bus…

* * *

Eli and Oskar are still reading the book together, turning the pages every couple minutes or so. Several pages later, there is a note tucked between two of the pages.

_Life is the moments when you take your breath.  
Love is the moments when it takes your breath away._

Hope you enjoy the book. And hope to see you Saturday.

Sara

* * *

Last night at Sara's home.

**Sara's sister:** "You know, your crotch is not getting any tighter."  
**Sara:** "What the hell do you want from me?"  
**Sis:** "You're still not over Markus?"  
**Sara:** "I'm so over that chicken-picker. Any more 'over' my uterus would be all over your baby-scaring face."  
**Sis:** "Then why aren't you dating?"  
**Sara:** "Because I'm not a Swede slut like you. And why do you care? Not like we're gonna have a threesome."  
**Sis:** "If you keep showing up to a party alone, people would think you're slit-licking lesbo. Which is fine by me. I just don't want people think I'm like you too."  
**Sara:** "Don't worry. You're too hairy to be lesbian. And yes. I'll bring a date. Heck, I may even bring three."  
**Sis:** "Speaking of slut."

* * *

During the day at lunchtime.

**Manager:** "Where's Oskar?"  
**Sara:** "Out for lunch I suppose."  
**Manager:** "You're not with him? Thought you two were good friends."  
**Sara:** "Not everybody is clingy like you. Fat huggy bear."  
**Manager:** "It's called affection."  
**Sara:** "No, it's called… Loser. My dear girlie-seeking mini-missile."

Somewhere on a bench.

**Random bum:** "Hello, my friend."  
**Oskar:** "Good day, Mr. Andersson."  
He could have called him anything. It wouldn't matter. Oskar feels safer to talk to a loose screw. "Normal" people are more threatening.  
**Bum:** "Smoke? Smoke?" Gesturing with a V-sign over his mouth.  
**Oskar:** "Sorry, I don't smoke. I don't have any cigarette."  
Oskar splits his sandwich and gives half of it to him, which he takes.  
**Oskar:** "How's your wife doing?" He no longer really has one.  
**Bum:** "Useless slut. All women good for are screw, screw, screw. I can have any women I want. You like women?"  
**Oskar:** "Have you been in love before?"  
**Bum:** "Screw her. Screw everyone. Took my money and had sex with other men."  
**Oskar:** "How would you choose between a 'normal' person who likes you and someone you don't have a future with that yet somehow doesn't bother you?"  
**Bum:** "Bomb the Russians. They're gonna take over the world. Kill them all!"  
**Oskar:** "You know, she… him… she… killed for me. She really did." The choice of pronoun sometimes is just a matter of pragmatic conventionalism. Why invite more questions than you care to answer?  
**Bum:** "Kill the Japanese too. Kill them all!"  
**Oskar:** "I just want her to be happy. But I don't know what to do. Sometimes I feel like I'm just a coward."  
**Bum:** "Spare some change?"  
Oskar gives him some.

* * *

Eli takes out the note. Slips it back into the end of the book, saying nothing.

**Oskar:** "Eli…"  
**Eli:** "It doesn't matter." Tilts her face slightly towards him without looking at him.  
He's looking at her face for a hint.  
**Oskar:** "No… I…"  
She looks up and turns to him.  
**Eli:** "It's alright. Don't worry about it."  
Oskar's still searching for words, staring.  
It is not just that she feels if you don't want people to ask you questions, you'd better not ask questions first, but.  
**Eli:** "You are here. That is enough." Reassuringly.

_Love is enough._

* * *

She leans back. Staring blankly at the pages. Not really reading. Some drowsy random thoughts flashing in her head. Reoccurring feeling. That touches. But not sure why…

_trickling…_

because Strange turns Everyday, Everyday turns Milky Way  
because the Lowly, yet brave—  
because the slow venom—eating you away—

because the slow touches, of so close, so far—  
because the slow music—and the slow death—  
because the slow snowdrops—and the big avalanche—

because no promises, no fancy flights, only deeds—  
because Words are few, Meanings are many  
because Life is death, Love is crime

because Hopeless—yet pursued—  
because Dayless, yet brightly shines—  
because the notes, the letter, within—

because the Frozen—the Conquered—  
because Weak is strong, Strong is ripped—  
because Many are nothing, One is Everything—

because the selfless gaze, the harmless plays—  
because Innocence lost regained—Hope lost remains—  
because Death has no meaning—Your Happiness does—

because the breathing felt in the back—  
because the heartbeats heard in the dark—  
because it's only You and Me, now and forever…


	5. The Letting Go

**The Letting Go**

Eli sees the note Oskar left on the table.

_I'll be at Sara's tonight. Will be home around 10._

Your bedbug

She recalls the old conversation.  
**Oskar:** "Remember you asked me if I wanna be like you?"  
**Eli:** "Hmm… yeah?"  
**Oskar:** "I found a solution."  
**Eli:** "What's that?" Not sure worried, afraid, or what.  
**Oskar:** "I'll be a bedbug."  
**Eli:** "Oh!?" A joke! A lame one notwithstanding.  
**Oskar:** "See, it goes out at night. It eats… err… you know what. And seems almost impossible to kill."  
**Eli:** "Like vampire, huh?"  
**Oskar:** "Exactly! But don't worry. I won't bite you… too hard."  
**Eli:** "You already have." Smiling. Not referring to the bite on the body…

* * *

Yesternight.  
**Eli:** "You should go to the party Saturday."  
**Oskar:** "Why?"  
**Eli:** "Oskar, you can't just stay home every night. With me."  
**Oskar:** "What's wrong with that?"  
**Eli:** "You're not happy."  
**Oskar:** "Yes, I am."  
**Eli:** "No, you're not. Trust me. No one will be happy living in a virtual prison."  
**Oskar:** "I am not."  
**Eli:** "Believe me. I know how it's like to live in 'prison'—all life long."  
**Oskar:** "…"  
**Eli:** "Go out. Have some fun. Once a while at least."  
**Oskar:** "Why?"  
**Eli:** "Do it for me."  
**Oskar:** "For you?"  
**Eli:** "I want you to be happy."  
**Oskar:** "So do I."

* * *

Yesterday. On a bench.

**Oskar:** "Hi, Mr. Andersson. I brought you some cigarettes."  
He took it, lifting up the pack in front of his face gesturing a thank you.  
**Oskar:** "Did you kill anyone today?"  
**Random bum ("Mr. Andersson"):** "Rrrrr…. Cold. I hate this place. Always so cold."  
**Oskar:** "Are you hungry?"  
**Bum:** "Grrr… What you looking at? You. Mmm…" Staring out into some empty space.  
Oskar gives him some sandwich anyway.  
**Oskar:** "I'm alright too, thank you."  
**Bum:** "Mmm…"  
**Oskar:** "It's good to have something to eat sometimes, isn't it?"  
**Bum:** "Mmm…mmm…" Nodding, munching. No one knows what he knows or doesn't know.  
**Oskar:** "We all just want to live, trying our best, to survive. Or to help someone that helps us survive."  
A few minutes after finishing his sandwich.  
**Oskar:** "Sorry buddy…"

* * *

Even if he talked, who would believe him?

Siphoning some blood out of a sedated mental homeless person seems like a best compromise Oskar could come up with—at least he "cares" about him more than anyone else in the world would.

* * *

At Sara's.

**Sara's sister:** "Who's that?"  
**Sara:** "Him? Oskar. Someone from work."  
**Sis:** "THAT's your date? He looks like a dork."  
**Sara:** "Shut up! He's nice."  
**Sis:** "Nice?"  
**Sara:** "He's a gentleman."  
**Sis:** "Every guy's a gentleman until after he gets into your pants."  
**Sara:** "You're a slut you know that?"  
**Sis:** "Just don't want you to get hurt. Again."  
**Sara:** "I won't."

* * *

**Sara:** "I swear, the end is near. PM got killed. Shuttle blew up."  
**Oskar:** "Yeah… the space shuttle… Not much happened this year though."  
**Sara:** "Drink?"  
**Oskar:** "You have cranberry juice? Just cranberry juice, no alcohol. Please."  
**Sara:** "Err… Sure…"  
Gets him the drink.  
**Sara:** "You don't drink booze?"  
**Oskar:** "No."  
**Sara:** "You're weird you know that?"  
**Oskar:** "I know." Smiling.  
**Sara:** "I mean, not weird weird… I mean, not in a bad way or anything…" Trying hard to correct herself.  
**Oskar:** "You are 'weird' too. And I like that. 'Normal' people are scarier." Smiling calmingly.  
**Sara:** "No shit! They like to tell you what you should or should not do. Like I give a damn!"  
**Oskar:** "… 'You swear too much.'" The background noise blurring some of his words.  
**Sara:** "Oh, sorry…"  
**Oskar:** "No, no. I mean, 'normal' people like to tell you what's right or wrong. Like 'You swear too much' and stuff like that."  
**Sara:** "Right… You suck at telling jokes you know that? Good that you don't do stand-up for a living."  
**Oskar:** "I know." Grinning.

**Sara:** "So, you have a girlfriend?"  
**Oskar:** "Didn't you ask me that before?"  
**Sara:** "Yeah, but seriously. You don't date or anything?"  
**Oskar:** "Mmm…"  
**Sara:** "You like boys? It's ok if you do. I don't judge. I don't give a dime what people like or don't like as long as they leave me alone."  
**Oskar:** "I don't think I'm gay."  
**Sara:** "You don't think? What the hell is that? Either you're gay or you're not. Or bi. It's not like you can 'almost' screw a guy or girl. Either you nail him or you don't. There's no in-between. Unless there're some new weird positions I've never heard of…"  
**Oskar:** "Err..."  
**Sara:** "…NO! I don't mean I'm a slut or anything…"  
**Oskar:** "I didn't say anything…" Not sure to smile or not.  
**Sara:** "So, what. You're a monk or something?"  
**Oskar:** "Nnnoo…"  
**Sara:** "No one _in your life_?"  
**Oskar:** "It's… complicated…"  
**Sara:** "Try me."

* * *

Sara had no problem to throw herself to a boy casually. After all, she likes to flirt. What's the worst could happen, she reckons. At worst, she dumps him (or he dumps her) and moves on. It's not like she's ugly or anything, she feels. She had no problem to get boys, just not always _the one_ she wanted—really wanted. Or rather, make it, never.

There are only so many "games" she could play before getting tired, inside. She wants to be "serious." For once. At least. Or at least give it a try. But she also knows full well the rule of the game (at least what she thinks she knows it is): the one who moves first loses.

* * *

**Oskar:** "Why don't you date?"  
**Sara:** "You freaking kidding me? I date a lot! Everybody knows that."  
**Oskar:** "…"  
**Sara:** "It came out slutty, didn't it?... HEY! Don't change the subject! It's about you! Not me…"  
**Oskar:** "It's complicated…"  
**Sara:** "You said that already! I do still have a few brain cells and short-term memories left you know?"  
**Oskar:** "… Ah… Nothing's perfect… You just try to get the best out of an imperfect situation…" Pensively.  
**Sara:** "Yeah?..."  
**Oskar:** "The important thing is, you have the most important thing in the world in your own little existence—all these so-called logics, morals, don't apply to you—_there_."  
**Sara:** "Hmm..." Nods. Twists the corner of her mouth a little. Tries to make something out of what he said.  
**Oskar:** "All these so-called rules from the outside world don't make you happy or better in your own self-defined world."  
**Sara:** "Of course not" Mechanically.  
**Oskar:** "They try to make decision for you, yet they are not the ones who will suffer from the consequences of the decisions _they_ make—for you. _We_ do. So why listen to them? Listen to _us_, ourselves, instead."  
**Sara:** "Hhmm… are you trying to go Achrisdog on me or something?" After spacing out a little.  
**Oskar:** "Aristotle?"  
**Sara:** "Yeah, whatever."  
**Oskar:** "Oh… I like this music… Do you dance?" Some song is playing.  
**Sara:** "You kidding? I rule the floor!"

* * *

They dance a little. Oskar, partly trying to be polite, partly looking for a human touch, partly wanting to get away… Sara, just tired of talking…

* * *

It's not that Oskar can't learn how to drive. He simply feels, one less identification the better.

Sara is driving Oskar "home"—or what close to it. This time, Oskar asks her to drive to somewhere actually very close to his (real) home as Oskar finds it a little too late to take the bus, which could take too long, and he thinks, it's dark, Sara probably won't recognize the neighborhood anyway.

Oskar simply told her he's staying overnight at a friend's home, to save time, when the next day he would help his friend with some chores.

Besides, Oskar and Sara do enjoy the company of each other. They don't judge one another. And for Sara, the car ride is the only truly "alone" time she could have with Oskar.

* * *

In the car.

**Sara:** "Want some music?"  
**Oskar:** "Sure… anything…"  
Sara plays something—somehow—soft. She normally doesn't.

**Sara:** "So tell me. Who is this friend of yours? You seem close."  
**Oskar:** "We are."  
**Sara:** "And?..." Sara is not normally inquisitive about other people's lives. She doesn't usually care enough to ask.  
**Oskar:** "We've known each other since we're little. He helped me out of some different situations when I was younger. He saved my life, so to speak."  
**Sara:** "Wow, you don't hear that very often?"  
**Oskar:** "What not very often?"  
**Sara:** "'Saving your life.'"  
**Oskar:** "Indeed."  
**Sara:** "I wish someone could drag me out of this miserable place!"  
**Oskar:** "Someone will. Some day."  
**Sara:** "You think so?"  
**Oskar:** "I know so?"  
**Sara:** "Really? How?"  
**Oskar:** "You could become Miss Sweden."  
**Sara:** "Yeah, right. Miss Rockabilly Sweden. Hurray!"

Several minutes of silence. Enjoying the peace and tranquility.

**Oskar:** "Sara…" As if tried to clarify something.  
**Sara:** "Mmm…?" A strange uncomfortable feeling suddenly. Of something she doesn't want to come coming.  
**Oskar:** "You are my good friend too." In a brotherly tone.  
**Sara:** "Yeah… like Ernie and Bert, right?" Laughingly.  
**Oskar:** "Hahaha… almost…"  
**Sara:** "…" Suddenly a somber woman's instinct crossing her mind…  
**Oskar:** "We could be good pals… _forever_, right?" Turning his face to her, as if eliciting an answer.  
Pals, _forever_. This is not what she wants to hear. Right now. Intuitively she knows what it means. It means it couldn't be the _other_ thing.  
**Sara:** "… right…" With a voice lowered. Forces out a brief smile. Looking straight at the road—at least what she appears to be.

* * *

Sara is not usually a sentimental type. But being in the dark. "Alone." And the music…

She just didn't realize she did in fact already open up—a little—to somebody. Now it even cracks a little. More. It's hard to pretend to be something when in fact deep in her heart she wants something _else_—something _more_. A few months, especially when feelings intense, could be like eternality for a young life, waiting, wishing, measuring, assessing—like a wooing scorpion trying to avoid being stung. Irony, cruel sports of fate, of nature, of life, is what she feels—she can have anyone—and no one.

Dark. "Alone." Eyes watery…

* * *

Temperature has been going above and below zero for a few days, as if nature is chanting: Freeze and thaw. Freeze and thaw. The water on the floor. It turns the roads into random skating rinks.

* * *

Dark. Driving. Dreamingly… Speeding… Getting over with…

"SHIT!" Sara screams. The car skids. She tries to control it—but hardly can. In her head, "INCOMING!" Not much someone can think of and do in less than a second to an imminent crash… That is, if she could think at all…

Her last instinct—steer the passenger's side away from the incoming object…

* * *

As though the world were over on impact. Light. Dark. Light. Haze. The car slams into a tree—mainly on the driver's side…

* * *

Not knowing if it's been seconds or hours, Oskar lifts up his head, finding Sara, clammed by the steering wheel—motionless.

"SARA!"

THINK! THINK! THINK!

No cars in sight. He could run to somewhere to ask for help but is reluctant to. Not that he's thinking now he could be "exposed" by taking Sara to a hospital but that he cannot imagine leaving Sara alone in this condition right now...

"Oskar!"

* * *

Oskar hears a familiar voice from nearby, and jumps, as though a small bomb has exploded in his chest. And looks towards the direction of the voice.

**Oskar:** "Eli?!"

Eli rushes to Oskar, hugs, staring at Sara over Oskar's shoulder. She lets go Oskar within a split second, leaps to Sara and lays a hand on her, without taking her sight away from Sara all the whole time—with all her might and will at the same time, resisting the blood temptation…

**Eli:** "She is… dying… her rib cage…"

* * *

Eli, naturally, can recognize intricate body conditions and a dying soul—for, each time she "feeds" she needs to _turn off_ the body in a timely manner to prevent "the risk of infection." She has seen the dying too many times.

* * *

**Oskar:** "Can we take her to the hospital?" In a hurried voice. Not realizing the fact that Sara is bleeding… and Eli…  
**Eli:** "Her heart… it's damaged…"  
By "we," Eli knows it means her.  
Oskar has a moment of silence, trying to resist the thought that Eli is lying…  
**Oskar:** "Can you… _turn_… her?" He doesn't know what to do and what he's doing anymore.  
**Eli:** "… it's too late, Oskar…"  
**Oskar:** "Is it?" He has a flashing thought of doubt.  
It pains her to lie to Oskar. Even partially.  
**Eli:** "No… but…"  
**Oskar:** "I know. It's stupid…" A bit angry. Not sure at what or whom.  
**Eli:** "No… it's not that…" She is thinking of Håkan… Oskar never fully knows what happened.  
**Oskar:** "WHAT? WHAT? TELL ME! WHAT?"  
**Eli:** "Even if she were _turned_—and lived—she might never actually be—alive…" Eli doesn't believe Sara could become "her" without a functioning heart.

Silent, searching for solutions, Oskar…

**Oskar:** "How much time does she have?"  
**Eli:** "Minutes… seconds… I don't know…"  
**Oskar:** "…"  
**Eli:** "Tell her what you want to tell her—for the last time—while she could still hear you…"

* * *

In the hospitals, some nurses often warn people not to say anything bad in front of a dead person on his dead bed. Even if his heart has stopped, his hearing is still one of the last senses to go. A dead could still hear. Eli is no stranger to the hospital…

* * *

Eli walks away and turns her back to them as if trying to give them some space and privacy (besides she needs to get away from the blood)—though she can still hear full well from a distance. The whispering and even the breathing. She couldn't go too far away. She's afraid to give Oskar the impression that she's abandoning them. She would want to block her hyper-sensitive hearing if she could—at this very moment…

* * *

Oskar instinctively tries not to cry, or rather, tries to let not Eli see him cry. Oskar doesn't want to give Eli the impression that there is anyone in the world that stands above her—in his mind.

Oskar whispers something into Sara's ear... Shielding his face (from Eli) with his arm, he presses a kiss…

* * *

It is not that Eli never gets jealous. It's just that it seems to her to fret over small things, technicalities, "rules" and such is not worthy—if it is to lose what's most important to her in her life. For her, the choice is easy because she has no choice.

Oskar makes her feel mortal—again. Not because of the illusion of everlasting love. But because—the exact opposite—she knows—it—will—end. One day.

She just hopes she will never be the reason that it ends—let it be fate, or even Oskar, or whatever higher power that reigns—but never her.

* * *

Eli can hear what Oskar whispers to Sara…

For the _second_ time, Eli feels like she's losing Oskar. Only this time, his heart. To _another_ person.

* * *

_As Freezing persons, recollect the Snow—  
First—Chill—then Stupor—then the letting go—_  
(Emily Dickinson)

Eli knew Oskar wouldn't have a normal life with her—"normal" from the perspective of the "normal" world. It seemed the "logical" and noble thing for her to do was—to let go. To let him go. To let herself go…

_turn…_

swinging swing trick & tapping games  
in your fondness my soul grew tamed  
lightless future & growthless fate  
in our darkness my thoughts grew strange

weak—not by hunger—but by oath—  
love lets not lover's eyes behold…  
i died—not by fire, nor by foe—  
but by saying i have to go…

But, like a ghost hovering in limbo, she could let him go only if, and only as much as, he could, and would, let her go. "Why lets the World dictates how we should live in our own little universe which the World is not even part of and does not passionately care about?"

_Passion…_

Passions, like phoenix, when the old burn out,  
The new will straight from the ashes arise.  
When I thought my feelings for you died out,  
I was just fooling my heart for my mind.  
The heart has reasons the mind knows not of…  
And when passions burn and fond feelings spring,  
It turns minds blind, it drives hearts brave, and off  
It brings our hearts, spirits, and everything  
To a far-off land in sunset purple—  
Where we are not even ourselves, our own—  
We reason when Reason itself fumbles;  
Feel, when Feeling itself trembling on—  
And we surmise: Love does not drive Mind blind  
But makes Mind hear Love's infinite love rhymes.

* * *

What Oskar's afraid most is not death per se—he's almost sure Eli would outlive him—but the life between him and Eli would run out of its natural course. Not by death but by fading feelings. He hated the feelings of being abandoned and helpless. Eli was the only one that helped him. Rescued him. He couldn't imagine being the one who abandons Eli—even if it means doing everything against his own will. "Let Fate pry her away from me if it can."

* * *

They both know the odds. Without ever mentioning it. Why say out loud the obvious? Especially when it will only destroy things. They have already too little to cherish.

Every time Eli and Oskar meet, they feel like it would be their last… awaiting a final chapter—whatever might be… Maybe that's why they love each other so much—even when the world hates it.

* * *

**Oskar:** "Eli…" Disoriented and confused. Slowly accepting _it_ as inevitable.  
Oskar couldn't let Eli watch over Sara (because of the blood—now he suddenly realizes). But he doesn't want to leave Sara there while going away to seek help. And he doesn't want to send Eli either…  
**Eli:** "…"  
**Oskar:** "I'm taking her…"  
**Eli:** "…" Without showing any objection on her face.

With Eli's brief help of prying the steering wheel away from Sara, Oskar is carrying Sara towards the light—a distant house. Hopeless. But just so Sara might know he has never abandoned her.

Eli follows him in the shadow. Always out of sight but never far behind.

* * *

With each passing second, the march grows more solemn. Feeling whom he's holding in his arms is losing her warmth, and the presence of Eli not far behind, Oskar utters: "Thanks."

Both Eli and Sara hear it.

_Sorry..._

Some friends are your flying wings;  
Some are the winds beneath your wings—  
And I but the cool breezes  
That fan your temples a-throbbing.

Some love makes you sing and fly;  
Some gets you bright stars from the sky—  
And mine but a cruel burden  
That adds sorrow upon your life. 


	6. Distance & Moment

﻿

**Distance & Moment**

Dreams.

* * *

He's walking around on the street. Like a tourist. In a city. On a partly cloudy day. He looks around. No one pays attention to him. He's looking for something. Or someone. He tries to ask for direction. But no one replies or even looks at him. He stands still. In front of some store or wall. All alone. People are passing him by. The imagery looks hazed.

* * *

It looks like a party or gathering of friends. In an apartment. Not very brightly lit. Almost looks sepia. Doesn't appear to have any music playing. All other people are but shadows, unknown, untouched.

Except for this girl. She is straddling on his laps. Seemingly intoxicated. Pushes him back on his chair with her hands upon between his chest and shoulders. She leans forwards trying to push a kiss onto his mouth.

He's stone still.

"Open your mouth!" She yells.

* * *

Those were the dreams Oskar had had before he met Sara…

* * *

She is more forward. He's more reserved.

**Sara:** "What's your name?"  
**Oskar:** "Oskar."  
**Sara:** "Hmm…"  
**Oskar:** "What?"  
**Sara:** "Nothing. It's just that. I think I know an Oskar in school. A few years back."  
**Oskar:** "Really? But there're plenty of Oskars out there."  
**Sara:** "Yeah… But this kid. He disappeared."  
**Oskar:** "Disappeared?"  
**Sara:** "Yeah… He's kinda a loser type of kid, you know. Got beat up and all. And all of a sudden, one day, Poof, he's gone."  
**Oskar:** "What happened to him?"  
**Sara:** "No one knows… Kinda feel bad for him."  
**Oskar:** "Why?"  
**Sara:** "You know, got beat up and everything. Just being picked on all the time. Poor thing."  
**Oskar:** "O?… Did you… do anything?"  
**Sara:** "You kidding me? Why should I do anything? I don't really know him know him. I don't wanna get beat up myself!"  
**Oskar:** "Right…"

Oskar was scared that someone might know the "old Oskar." Even more afraid that someone would recognize him. But at the same time he feels a hint of strange comfort. Someone noticed. Cared. Back then. A little. Sort of. (Besides Eli.) Even if it's only from someone he's just met in a bookstore.

* * *

Oskar and Sara have been working in the bookstore for a few weeks. But they never talk to each other much. Mostly it was Oskar who did mainly just the one-question-one-answer type of talking. Kept the conversation to the minimum. Sara was trying, however. Just to be friendly at least.

* * *

One day, Oskar sees Sara talking with someone, a guy, outside the bookstore. They appear to be engaging in a heated conversation. Moments later, the guy either pretends to lunge forwards towards Sara or is about to but stops himself. She doesn't flinch and stands her ground.

Oskar keeps observing, concerned a little. It brings back the bullying memories to some extent. He wants very much to intervene but stops himself—partly because he's not sure if it's just a lovers' quarrel—the kind that look more serious than they really are—and partly because he just wants to—or to be able to—lead his "invisible" life.

Then a loud yelling. Oskar can't quite make out what it is.

Sara storms back into the bookstore.

* * *

Sara looks down mostly throughout the working day avoiding most eye contacts—except, reluctantly, with the customers.

Oskar dares not talk to her.

* * *

Oskar is not a classical literature addict. But he reads a little. Just in case when Eli mentions or quotes something, he may know what it is about. He's certainly a bit fond of quotes by now.

An idea suddenly dawns on him. He slips a little note into the book Sara is carrying and reading from time to time during her breaks.

_The anger of lovers renews their love._  
– TERENCE, _Andria_

* * *

The next day, Sara comes back smiling. At Oskar. The note was unsigned. Yet somehow Sara instinctively knows who it's from, or maybe that's what she so wishes. But a subtle handwritten note seems Oskar to her. Besides, there aren't that many people in the bookstore who would do that.

Oskar notices—something different—and looks down without a word. At least for the first couple of hours.

It isn't so much what was written that Sara cares about but who it's from. She isn't looking for anything splendid from Oskar. At least, not yet. But she likes the attention. Especially from someone who seems aloof and whose attention she would like to attract a little bit. She simply likes to be liked.

* * *

**Sara:** "Hey…" More softly than usual.  
**Oskar:** "…" Just looking at her.  
**Sara:** "Thanks for the note by the way" With a genuine sweet smile bubbling from the heart.  
**Oskar:** "O… don't mention it." He's tempted to act ignorant of it but decides to simply admit it.  
**Sara:** "We were…"  
**Oskar:** "You don't have to tell me anything. It's not my business." Reflexively trying to avoid getting close to anyone.  
**Sara:** "O, sorry… I thought…" She kind of wants to say something like I thought you cared…  
**Oskar:** "No, no… I don't mean to be rude. I'm sorry." He interrupts her.  
**Sara:** "No, I'm sorry." She has no clue why she has to say she's sorry.  
**Oskar:** "You never have to say you're sorry. Ever! At least not to me." That just comes out of nowhere.  
She pauses a little.  
**Sara:** "Hehe… didn't we just have a conversation?" Because Oskar didn't normally try to sustain any conversation with Sara.

Oskar simply can't help feeling sympathetic towards someone he feels being "bullied." Even less does he feel the person should say or feel "sorry."

That's the beginning of a friendship—which Oskar rarely has—outside Eli. A friendship that is both close and distant.

* * *

Sara doesn't normally appear sympathetic—not outwardly anyway—she's subconsciously afraid of being taken advantage of that way. Nonetheless she is neither judgmental—partly because she's aware that she's neither cream of the cream herself—perhaps with also things of past—or even present—that she isn't very proud of either.

Not being judged. Not being pried. That makes Oskar feel at ease around Sara—despite her occasional eccentricity—which seems negligible, compared to the loud angry self-righteous judgments often being passed abundantly around the world. In fact her quirkiness is rather amusing sometimes—for Oskar—sometimes even calming, or adoring—in a way. Like a higgledy-piggledy child's play.

Too much judgment, too little sympathy, in this world. But that's not the world Oskar shares and lives in—with Sara—and with Eli.

* * *

Back home, Eli is still sleeping. In fact, she has been sleeping for a few days. Oskar kind of knows when it will be happening—her sleep cycle—especially when she has not been feeding enough. Besides during the summertime.

He reckons she will probably be sleeping for a few more days.

Fiddling with Eli's belongings, alone at home, he recalls what she told him about her hometown.

She misses the walk and the play outdoors—even under the sickly cloudy skies—outside her cottage. She misses the glide on the frozen pond. The splashes by the stream. The idle onlooking at her parents' labor and siblings' helping. The innocence. Poor, yet carefree. All but vaporize and dry up.

Though has yet been there, Oskar knows there's nothing much left in her hometown for her to see. But he still wants to be able to _see_ what she _see_ when she tells him about the trees, the paths, the grass, the breezes. He wants to be able to imagine the way Eli imagines her long-gone home. A way to feel and be close or closer to someone. Someone who so much forms part of him and defines him.

So he decides to pay a quick visit.

* * *

**Sara:** "The manager said you're going to Norrköping?"  
**Oskar:** "Yeah, just for a day or two. Just a quick visit."  
**Sara:** "Why? There's nothing there!"  
**Oskar:** "Just some personal visit. Nothing special."  
**Sara:** "I'm going to Stockholm to visit a friend anyway." (No, she isn't.) "I can give you a ride on my way there."  
**Oskar:** "Well, Norrköping isn't exactly 'on your way.' It's more like a few more hours drive the other way."  
**Sara:** "It's just driving. It makes no difference…" Now Sara is stuck with her Stockholm story. Can't pretend she's visiting Norrköping as well.  
**Oskar:** "You can just drop me off in Stockholm. I'll find my way to Norrköping."  
**Sara:** "Find your way how?" She has to "play it cool" now. Cannot show she's too eager to drive Oskar to Norrköping for no reason whatsoever.  
**Oskar:** "Hitchhike. Cab. Hijacking. Whatever." Grin a little in jest.  
She lets out a little giggle.  
**Sara:** "Don't be silly…"  
**Oskar:** "Don't worry. I'll manage… I always do…" (Almost always.)

* * *

Oskar is making a one-day in-and-out visit to Norrköping. He's taking some pictures of the surroundings with an inexpensive camera he bought with the money he saved. He doesn't normally want to spend Eli's money. Maybe except for a few things, such as rent. Besides, he didn't want Eli to know he's getting a camera. He meant it to be a surprise.

He's imagining walking the paths Eli once walked. Or even, walking with her. Outside. Under the daytime skies.

He almost cries.

Imagining him and Eli. Living in her "hometown." Taking a casual walk outside their home. Like normal people. In the open air. Under the skies with grey drifting clouds. Without worrying.

He's swelled with tears inside—because he knows it will _never_ ever happen. They could only imagine. Imagine it. In their minds. It—a normal life—not between him and Eli—but for her. He could care less if he dies. Because he already has—_died_—in the pool—long ago.

Eli is merely his afterlife. He wants to be able to give a life back to her. But he feels he can never be. It feels like holding your baby dying in your arms.

He wipes his eyes.

* * *

While still in Norrköping preparing to leave, standing, waiting, Oskar is smiling, imagining how happy it might make Eli feel—to surprise her with the photos of her hometown, even if it is no longer what it was.

He doesn't notice someone approaching.

**A stranger:** "You smell familiar."  
**Oskar:** "Excuse me?" The stranger looks like someone he's seen before. Maybe in a dream.  
**Stranger:** " I said, 'Your smile looks familiar.'"  
**Oskar:** "Ahh… How so?"  
**Stranger:** "It reminded me of someone I knew very long time ago… "  
**Oskar:** "O… no… just… someone I was thinking of…" Oskar still thinking about Eli, not quite catching what the man was saying.  
**Stranger:** "A girlfriend?" Cooly.  
**Oskar:** "Something like that." He almost blushes, suppressing a smile that's coming out of his still fuzzy-feeling heart, for fear that he might turn out to act like a giddy little girl—after all, being older, sometimes he feels the need to "act like man."

After a few more casual nonsubstantial polite exchanges, the man leaves.

* * *

_The distance you travel measures how much you care.  
The moments you set on fire define how brave you desire._

Oskar reconvenes with Sara in Stockholm.

In her car.  
**Sara:** "I've got you a little something." She hands Oskar a Rubik's Cube.

Oskar is surprised. Pleasantly, a little. But mostly frightened—as if Sara knew his past (and Eli—and their past).

**Oskar to himself:** "Does she know Eli? How did she find out? Does she know my past? Our past?" He finds it more and more frightening.

Sara can't quite make out the look Oskar has on his face.

* * *

While in Stockholm, Sara's wondering around, not sure why she is doing what she is doing—driving someone she doesn't feel she fully knows, all the way to another city, with a pretext.

She wanders into a store. Browsing. Sees a (once popular) Rubik's Cube sitting on a bottom shelf. Picks it up. It looks like a novelty item but nothing too flashy or extravagant. At least it looks novelty to Sara. She's never played with one before.

Maybe subconsciously trying to leave an impression on Oskar—with something, she takes the Rubik's Cube to the cashier—without knowing why (as Oskar never told her anything about Rubik's Cube or even puzzles of any kind for that matter). Maybe she thinks instinctively a quiet person like Oskar might like playing with something like a Rubik's Cube.

**Cashier:** "Need a gift wrap?"  
**Sara:** "Oh, no, thanks. It's for me." She actually, for a moment, wants to accomplish it with a note or a card, or gift-wrap it but decides against it because it appears too desperate or too intentional.

* * *

**Oskar:** "How did you… Do you…"  
**Sara:** "What? I thought you might like it. I've never seen it before. Thought you might like this kind of thing."  
Oskar realizes it's all just purely coincident. Relieved.  
**Oskar:** "Oh! Yes, I like it a lot! I haven't seen it for ages. Thanks!"

Oskar wants to and almost gives Sara a hug and a kiss. But doesn't.

Sara is happy—and relieved—to see Oskar likes it. Without realizing the fact that Oskar didn't give her a thank-you hug or kiss.

* * *

Sara drives Oskar back "home" (what Oskar told Sara supposedly his "home"). Oskar simply waves goodbye, though thanks her enthusiastically and whole-heartedly, without much of any physical contact.

* * *

Sara is probably the only second person in Oskar's life that has done something that touches him.

Oskar isn't completely clueless but isn't completely sure either. He just wants to keep things courteous with Sara. Besides, they work together. It might be coward if it's not what he thinks it is, he feels. And he is not exactly "single and looking" either even if he never makes it clear to anyone, including Sara. What would he be supposed to say or tell?

Both Sara and Oskar are doing a little bit of self-preservation or protection, for the same as well as different reasons. Sara for herself. Oskar for himself and Eli.

* * *

Eli wakes up (after the night Oskar came back). Oskar has gone out after leaving the photos on the table, semi hidden.

* * *

Considering Eli doesn't even have a birthday, so to speak, and every day could be their last, Oskar always feels, "Don't wait for special occasions. Don't try make big moments come. Make every occasion special. Make every moment count."

Oskar also wrote Eli a little rhyme while on the ride home listening to radio. He heard a song that inspired him to write it for her. A silly "baby girl" ditty. He left it with the photos.

* * *

A few hours later, Oskar and Eli sit together.

**Oskar:** "I need to go to Stockholm for a while…"

* * *

_Love and will…_

_If love is weighed by suffering,  
Know that I'm perfectly willing  
To be thrown in prison for your sake  
Or to be robbed of everything.  
Not that I'm rich or strong or brave,  
But your thoughts uphold me with grace  
And restore my will and weak body  
When all else from me run away. _


End file.
